


Little Green Men

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9057364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Their first time is hard, but they figure it out.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizardbeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/gifts).



His drifting ways led Kanan from world to world, staying long enough to scratch together some pay and a good time before drifting off again. No getting close, not to the would-be friends, not to the various good-looking partners he shared a bunk with for a pleasant night.

It is far past time to admit he's already too close to the woman he's with now. His instincts, the same that have kept him alive since he last saw Master Billaba surrounded by clones, should be telling him to wish Hera well on her wide-eyed hope of saving the galaxy before Kanan makes his own quick exit. Instead, those instincts have pushed him closer to her, like some tidal pull from a moon he never saw rise before they met.

He's heard a lot of stories about Twi'leks, many of them filthy. He's not sure he believes the one where they were created for use by some petty warlord, and he knows better than to believe the one where they're insatiable in bed, particularly the women. That's the kind of story made up by someone working in the slave trade who doesn't like looking in the mirror. It's like the rumors of how a Jedi would shut off a man's heart just by looking at him, would choke the life from a woman for daring to cross them, would steal right into your mind and change your soul, rumors that justified in hindsight the horrors of the past.

He's wearing the past in his eyes again. He can see it in the curtain falling over Hera's face. They've spent half the night getting closer on this seat, and he's about to ruin things by going into a mental funk.

Kanan slaps on a smile before she can ask.

Hera frowns. "Something's wrong."

He could play her off now with a line, even use the bad moment to tug a little at her heart. Neither is a good option. Kanan is rapidly coming to realize his traveling companion is not only much brighter than he originally took her for, but is also smarter than he is. He likes it. He likes her. Both thoughts are enough to relieve the impending bad mood. There's an intelligent, gorgeous woman next to him, one who has let him kiss her several times tonight. Everything else is in the past.

"Bad moment," he says, since he can't lie to her. "Better now." He pushes in a little closer, and yes, there's another kiss, made a little sweeter with the juice in her glass. Her head is clear, and his is finally rid of the pounding he got two days after he found out there was no alcohol aboard her ship. Things are back to about perfect, and if that droid of hers rolls in now, Kanan will personally disassemble the antisocial astromech with his powers.

Hera has better things for him to do with his powers. She's not backing away this time, and from the expression she's giving him, he's sure she's not planning on backing off at all. This bench seat is too cramped a spot for what he's sure she'd like to do.

He makes himself lean back and meet her eyes. Last chance to drop this, he wants to say, but he doesn't want her to drop this. "Which stateroom do you like better, yours or mine?"

Now is her chance to tell him off with a joke. Instead, her face goes serious. No one does serious like Hera. "Mine's nicer."

Her room is nicer, he thinks to himself as they tumble inside a minute later. Now that her mind is made up, they've been kissing their way through the ship, her hand reaching out to touch the door button the second they're inside.

There's a curious beep.

They both stare at Chopper, who is resting comfortably on his dock.

"Out," Hera says. Chopper refuses. "Out now, or I'm removing your battery."

There's a series of beeps that Kanan is learning means, 'You always say that.' Chopper disengages from his dock, extending his shocking probe against Kanan's leg as he grumbles out the door.

"Ow! You have got to get that thing overhauled."

She shakes her head in amusement. "He's been my best friend since I was ten years old."

That gives him another moment's pause, trying to picture a little girl wearing Hera's serious face, with her only friend some broken down orange relic with a bad attitude. He clears the thought, but not before filing it away in the growing image he's building of this odd, remarkable woman.

Who is getting naked without his help. She shoots him a look. "You going to join me?"

He opens his mouth and shuts it fast. He'd be lying if he said he hasn't considered this a large number of times since Gorse, but he's imagined helping her out of the unflattering flight suit, or at a minimum enjoying the view as she strips it slowly, revealing the gorgeous, bare green skin below.

She's naked, and just as pretty as he imagined, before he's even done with his pants. Her hands hesitate at her flight cap before plucking it off over her long lekku. That's another Twi'lek thing. Women cover their heads, taboo or modesty or religious precept, or maybe they just get cold. Kanan stops his own disrobing to walk closer, touching her shoulders as she doesn't exactly tremble before he leans over to kiss the top of her head. A hard shiver passes through her whole body, and now he knows one reason why she doesn't let her head stay bare.

In all his travels, he's never been with a non-human, not like this. He's lived with them, slept with them just for the sleep, even made his way into a kiss or three. He has no idea what her past has been like, not more than the little she's shared.

"You're gonna have to tell me when I do something wrong, agreed? I never mastered the whole mind-reading thing back in school."

There's a smile on her lips as she finds his mouth again. "Same."

His pants are much harder to get off than they usually are, until he remembers his boots. It is possible his brain is more focused on what's coming than what's going on right now. The burned, bitter ember of him that isn't angry at the Force prays they don't run into Imperials in the next hour.

Her skin is warm everywhere he expects to find warmth, and that's new. Hera is from a desert world, with desert blood, surging to the temperature of hot day or freezing night, or so he believed. His fingers spend time chasing the curves he finds, while hers take an amused tour of the small, dark hairs on his arms and chest. They could spend half the night this way. He wants to spend a lot of nights this way, but not tonight.

He catches the direction her eyes are focused. He's no stranger to the sordid holovids available for a few credits to a lonely miner. While his tastes tend towards his own species, he's seen more than enough of the cheaper vids to know there are some major differences between what his unknown heritage has given him and what the average Twi'lek guy has.

He's also picked up some advice on how to deal with those differences.

"Tell me," he repeats, then kisses her before settling into a place between her knees. He can feel another tremble, stills it with his lips against her leg, carefully kissing his way down to his goal. He's almost sure of this, and with some relief, he feels Hera's hand touch his face, pulling him where he needs to go. Instead of thanks, he presses in with his mouth, taking a long, good taste of her that draws out a hot moan.

Now he's got a pleasant task before him, and all the time he wants to complete it. He can't read her mind, not at all. He wouldn't be surprised to find out Hera has some Force sensitivity, but if she does, she's never been trained and she's turned it all into the whip-fast reflexes she uses to fly this dream of a ship. Instead, he listens to what her body tells him, and heeds the push of her hand when he's off target, stroking at the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue until she gradually relaxes. He keeps up that tickling pressure, enjoying her delighted breaths, as one finger slowly pushes inside, held tight by her muscles. The anatomy is close to human, shockingly so, but the differences come in strange places. Twi'lek men have external genitals almost twice as long as human's, but only as thick as his smallest finger. Twi'lek women have internal genitals that are just as narrow. Part of him stands back from the bunk, from the pleased sounds Hera makes, and knows this is one of the reasons why her people are taken as slaves, and never mind how much their owners hurt them.

Kanan never wants to hurt her. He'll spend his whole life to keep from hurting her, if that's what it takes.

Time ticks by in a different way when he's in bed with someone. He might have spent hours crouched here, although he's sure it's not that long before strong arms are tugging at him, demanding his face be brought closer to hers.

Smarter than he is, and stronger. He doesn't even want to think he's falling in love, but truth be told, he's probably already there.

He feels her hand take hold of him, and he bites in a gasp. He's been trying not to think about how ready he is, how hard he's been since they first kissed out on that seat in the lounge area, how much he's wanted her since he first saw her face weeks ago.

Immediately, Hera asks, "Are you all right?"

"Better than fine."

Her concern melts into a smile. "Good." She helps him ease inside her.

For one moment, time stops. She's ready for him, he's sure, but she's so tight still, like the firmest, wettest grip he can imagine. He watches her eyes, waiting for pain that doesn't come while he pushes in deeper.

"You okay?"

"Just keep moving," she says, and it's all she can say. Her hands have him in a clutch that will leave bruises. This is not going to last more than a minute for either of them. His skin is burning off from the sensation, and he cools the fire with another kiss, sensing the echo of her own inferno. Neither of them were ready for this intensity, but his heart feels curiously light, pleased even more that it's this woman he's holding and no other.

Jedi aren't supposed to know about love. They were famous for it. Kanan has a bad feeling he's going to be more of a mess than usual while he figures this all out, which is matched with a good feeling that Hera is going to be worth the effort.

It hits her first, sending her into shuddering spasms, and that's all he needs. At the last second, he pulls from her, spilling against the bunk. They have barely scratched the surface of each other's lives. This is better, this time.

She watches him, then meets his eyes. "Not bad," Hera says, her breathing slowing.

"I was pretty impressed."

"I'll bet." She kisses him again. "Ready for more?"

Kanan remembers that lurid rumor again. He already suspects spending time around Hera is going to get him killed one of these days. He may have just stumbled on his new favorite way to die.

"Sure."


End file.
